Something About Babies

poverty is so hard to see

when it’s only on your tv and twenty miles across town

where we’re all living so good

that we moved out of Jesus’ neighborhood

where he’s hungry and not feeling so good

from going through our trash

he says, more than just your cash and coin

i want your time, i want your voice

[derek webb]

I wanted to start my update with this. This is a good reminder as to why I am here.
All the things I am learning are amazing; all the people who are pouring information and truth into our lives are great. But the real reason for me being here is that something inside of me can’t handle the poverty is our world. It’s unjust.

I’ve been living here in Kona, Hawaii for two weeks now. We have various classes ranging from Healthcare, what Jesus thinks about poverty, Water Purification to teaching English as a Second language. We eat all together as an ohana [family] which drives me crazy sometimes because I have to line up for salad but then I get to sit down with my friends from the Philippines, Haiti, USA and Egypt – it’s a pretty sweet meal crew.

Anytime I start to complain about the food, the crazy schedule, the heat, my work duty in the admin office…there is one person here who brings me back to reality. His name is Junior and he is from St.Marc in Haiti. Junior is here taking the “Primary Healthcare” course offered on campus. Junior spends most of his time in the library; his plate is always piled high at meal times, no matter what is served. He is here to learn and learn quickly so he can go home to Haiti to help with this still astounding need there.

Anytime I start to whinge about my housemates that have an amazing knack of balancing rubbish higher and higher, till the bin is like the leaning tower of Pisa [no really, it’s quite an art] and I of course like a 5 year old, appear to be the only one who can knock it over and therefore take upon myself the responsibility of picking it all up and emptying the bin…there is one person who makes me laugh till I can’t breathe and I stop being such a ridiculous girl. His name is Tim, he was born in the Philippines and at age 2 he was adopted from the dumps in Manila by a Hawaiian family and has lived here ever since. He is such a funny guy he makes light of where he came from, but it often strikes me … He is one of the lucky ones.

And when I am carrying my newly purchased second hand beautiful 8’3 surfboard with a thumb out and wishing for a ride [hitch hiking is the norm here] my dear friend with a head full of dreads and some beautiful art work on her skin is awkwardly attempting to help me carry my board, laughing with me [sometimes so hard we can’t even keep our thumbs out, severally inhibiting our opportunities to get picked up] willing to explore new beaches with me despite her distain for the sun, carrying our bags of laundry up to our friends house via creatures in the dark [never thought I’d walk with a headlamp and a book light clipped to my shirt just to do some washing]
Her name is Candice.

On Tuesday night our entire school finds out the locations where they will go for our three month“outreach” phase. There are four options, Haiti, Cambodia, Thailand and Togo, West Africa. Our team of 60+ will divide into smaller teams. We were instructed to write our preferences for outreach as all countries will focus on different streams of community repair and humanitarian help including rescuing girls from the sex-trade industry, installing wells for water, teaching English to those who want/need, feeding the homeless, holding babies in orphanages, building houses, providing healthcare clinics.

On my little yellow post it I wrote this

1. Togo, West Africa
2. Togo, West Africa

I have an assurance this is where I am supposed to be, and while my heart goes out to all these other nations my feet can only go one place. I know this will be confirmed on Tuesday.

This week was particularly difficult for me. Hearing statistics on sex trafficking in the US, a nation which I would have called ‘ safe ‘ or at least ‘ safer ‘ than others where this is so prevalent made something inside of me roar. It’s ridiculous that this is so rampant. I think I felt so tormented not just because of the young girls and boys whose trust is violated and childhood snatched from them but because the men [and sometimes women] who are “old enough to know better” are obviously broken inside too. You don’t just wake up one day and decide to be an evil person and corrupt the young and the innocent.

What happened to them to make them this way, can we really get to the root of this problem?

My apologies for such a long-worded update. I love to write, and while it would be easier to just write my daily schedule to you all, I want you to read my thoughts while I am here. I so appreciate all the prayers I know you pray for me, I so appreciate all the encouragement I have received. There are some days when I come back to my little bunk bed very disheartened with the injustice I study now on a daily basis. It’s the sweet emails and letters and just little facebook notes that help me smile.
There is good in this world, I refuse to spend all my time focusing on the dark.

So. To finish off.
Please keep praying for me
Please keep writing to me

Thankyou for taking the time to read my thoughts

Oh how I miss home and so many of you [in my various other homes around the globe]

[ this is what i wrote in my "hand-written" email update to a lot of you. if you want to be added to that list please email me daniharriott@hotmail.com and I'll do so. Thought I'd pop it up here too but I won't always put the same stuff both places]